Classroom Antics
by arkhamite
Summary: "You never just want to talk, Miss Granger." Hermione always gets her way with Professor McGonagall and neither of them mind at all. Smut for smut's sake because I'm having a rough time writing depressing stuff and this is fun. No character development, plot or angst. Just good, old fashion lesbian sex.


"Your homework is to read chapters 31 and 32 and to write a 1000 word essay on the differences between transfigurative spell casting and transfigurative potions." The class groaned as one and the stern looking teacher leaned forward. "This is sixth grade word, you lot," she said in annoyance, "You're dismissed.

The class became a hub of movement as students hurried to leave, leaving one. Hermione was waiting until the other students had cleared the room, fussing over her books and her bag. Ginny was the first out the door as usual, eager to get to the quidditch pitch leaving the older girl behind. She didn't mind. She chose today because she knew no one would miss her. At the front of the room, Professor McGonagall was intentionally ignoring the lagging girl until she coughed loudly.

"Miss Granger, can I help you?"

Flattening her skirt against her thigh, Hermione let her bag drop to the ground beside her desk and glanced back nervously at the open door. No one was around. "I just wanted to talk."

With a sigh, the headmistress/transfiguration teacher rose from her seat and stepped slowly around the desk. "You never just want to talk, Miss Granger."

"Min." The frustration expressed in the single syllable made the older woman's lips quirk into a smile.

"Hermione. We've been through this." Folding her arms, Minerva leaned against the desk. Her stern glare could deter any student, but Hermione had seen it so often it just made her bolder.

"I know, I know," tapping her hand over the desks as she passed them, Hermione considered what she was going to say, "but it's only ever talk. I never say what I mean and I'm fairly sure you don't either. Otherwise it wouldn't always turn out the way it does."

Raising a hand to indicate that the other was close enough, the professor huffed again. "It only ends up like that because you're so bloody stubborn."

Hermione took another step. "I'm not the only one."

"No closer," she murmured, "the door's open."

Hermione wouldn't have heard her if it weren't for the fact she was just an arms-length away. Turning her head slightly, she focused on the doorway. After a few seconds the heavy wood closed with a creak. She grinned with satisfaction at the sound of the bolt sliding into place.

"How long have you been able to do that?" The older woman seemed to have forgotten their discussion, her amazement briefly overtaking it.

"I've been practicing." Taking advantage of the distraction, Hermione edged closer. "Do you want to know what else I've been practicing?"

"This is a public classroom, 'Mione." The upturned corner of her mouth betrayed her amusement.

"A _locked_ public classroom. During break on a warm, sunny day. Everyone's outside." Hermione rested a hand on Minerva's against the corner of the desk.

"You can't know that, darling."

"_Darling_? I thought you wanted a professional relationship."

The faux-surprise made the older woman smile and almost laugh. "Don't be a smart-aleck."

"Fine." Running her hand up the other's arm, Hermione leaned closer and smiled at the shiver that she elicited.

"Classroom, 'Mione."

"Don't tell me you've never wanted to do it in a classroom."

This did provoke a chortle. "Not since I was your age."

Hermione pouted and swayed, lifting one hand to stroke the pronounced jaw of her sometimes lover. She knew there were limits to their affair and to their flirtations. Keep the bedroom in the bedroom, keep everything outside of that to strict teacher-student behaviours. However, they were unspoken rules and Hermione loved to push her luck.

"You are unbelievable." McGonagall said with a shake of her head.

"And you are irresistible." Was the coy retort as she flattened her hand against the other woman's jaw so her fingers could gentle rub just below her ear. She knew this was Minerva's weak spot. She knew everything about her body.

Leaning into it, the teacher really did purr. The low vibrations echoed through the air and Hermione leaned forward, pressing her lips against her reverberating throat.

"You could talk me into killing someone if you wanted." The guttural voice interrupted the purring for a moment and drew a smile from Hermione.

"Is that permission, Professor?" She kissed up her throat, over her jaw and finally met her lips, warm and pink.

If there was an answer, Hermione didn't hear it. Two hands were in her hair, pulling her into a drawn out kiss, a tongue flicking into her mouth playfully. She couldn't supress a grin. Pulling away, she trailed kisses back to her lover's earlobe. As she did, her hands wandered of their own accord, one down the small of her lover's back, the other from her stomach to her breast.

Minerva groaned, enjoying the feel of breath on her jugular. "You're getting good," she muttered.

"Getting good?" Hermione questioned as she pulled her lips away. "I thought I already was."

"You were, darling. Better, I meant," McGonagall amended.

"I told you I'd been practicing."

One eyebrow rose suspiciously. "With whom have you been practicing, exactly?"

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "It's complicated."

Before anything else could be said, she lifted the teacher with both arms and kissed her hard and excitedly. She knew the subject was dropped when two hands lifted her knitted jumper and blouse up to expose her lace covered breasts. Fingers picked at the bra, played with her dark nipples and pinched teasingly while she suckled at the white skin of her teacher's neck beneath the turtle-neck robe. Supporting the older woman with one hand, she lifted the long skirt of her robes up to her waist and grinned down at the long thin legs. Pale smooth thighs were interrupted by the dark stockings that rose out of her heeled dragon-hide boots. Hermione plucked at the garters holding up the stockings and glanced up through her lashes.

"You don't need a permission slip, Miss Granger."

She bit her lip and moaned as thumbs tweaked her nipples. "This is unreal," she mumbled, pulling the other woman into another kiss and slipping one hand slowly up under the black garter belt. Teeth pull at her lower lip and a growl rumbled into her mouth.

The underwear her teacher was wearing felt soft and silky against her hand which was gliding under the elastic. Minerva pushed her hips out in impatience and Hermione giggled against her ear. The bushy haired student let her fingers slowly dip through neatly trimmed down and paused at the top of the slit. Her pleated school skirt was being lifted, hands gently massaging her behind and she wanted to relish this moment of intimacy. An urgent pinch of her ass broke the moment and she laughed, finally letting her fingers slide into the slick folds of the older woman's lower lips.

A loud moan greeted her and she bit into her lip to stifle a reply. Slowly and with purpose she slid her fingers along the inside of the wet labia a few times before using the tip of her middle finger to pull back Minerva's clitoral hood. She had done this a dozen times, knew every inch of her body, studied its ins and outs. Her forefinger circled the clit gently at first before varying the speed and direction, listening to the laboured breathing of her paramour until teeth dug into her shoulder. McGonagall was a biter, she knew this too. In the past she'd gone to bed with love bites all over her body, even stood in front of a mirror to count them.

"Inside," the growl commanded.

Hermione couldn't hide her triumphant expression, but caved into the mouth that was nibbling from her shoulder up under her chin. Pushing the heel of her hand against Minerva's clit she felt for the opening that engulfed two fingers easily. A grateful grunt and the sensation of teeth clamping over her throat revealed the action was well received.

"You're hurting me," she squeaked, relieved when the teeth receded to apologetic kisses.

Comfortable, she rocked her hand into her lover, holding her steady while she moved her wrist in slow then quick movements. Alternating her actions she finally found what she was looking when she curled her fingers inside Minerva. Running her fingers over the rough patch of flesh evoked a gasp and a shudder. She repeated the motion and a few times before loud cries of ecstasy could no longer be contained. Minerva's back arched as her groans became yelps and Hermione laughed aloud before clamping her spare hand over the other woman's mouth. She seemed too far gone to care who heard her. Hands with spectacularly sharp nails clawed at Hermione's back as her own fingers pumped erratically, her wrist twisting so her thumb knuckle would contain contact.

She knew it was over in a matter of minutes when the shuddering came to a climax and muscles clamped around her fingers. The yells beneath her hand washed into whimpers and she let her love collapse onto her shoulder, tired and wildly satisfied. When she had relaxed, Hermione pulled her hand clear and wiped it on her own skirt before stroking the other woman's head, careful not to disturb her hair.

"Are you alright?" She asked after another minute of silence and the occasional quiver.

"'Mione. You are a force to be reckoned with," was the quietly dazed reply against her ear, the words low.

When Minerva was okay to stand again she straightened her skirt before pulling her student in for another long, loving kiss. They parted and she occupied herself with neatening her desk. There was still a tint of blush to her cheeks and her lips were smudged with Hermione's lip-gloss, but other than that she had barely a hair out of place.

"Will I see you this evening for tea, Miss Granger?" She asked with her back turned.

She was back into business mode, but Hermoine didn't mind. She was thrilled with the prospect of another night spent in this unbelievable woman's bed. If she knew her Min, there was a debt to be repaid. "I'm at your beck and call, my love."

"Very well, then you're dismissed."

Hermione paused as she bent to pick up her bag, wanting to say more. Something to solidify that what they were doing was right. Nothing came to mind so at the door she finished their interaction lamely. "Good afternoon, Professor."

A/N: Because my ongoing story is venturing into angst territory and I'm working on another really effing depressing fic I wanted to write something a little bit bad and very smutty. I hope you enjoyed it because it was fun to write and involved no character development or plot which is a fun change.


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